Nagi's Stories
by SoaringGryphonProductions
Summary: After over ten years of living in the US, a Half-Japanese member of Harima's family is coming back to Japan for school. Itoko is not too pleased about it. Half-Japanese and Half-Black, Yagami High School's Class 2-D is about to meet Nagi Osakabe-Jones whether Osakabe-sensei likes it or not


**School Rumble: Nagi's Stories**

**Chapter 1: Arrival**

My story is complicated. I have an older sister that hates my guts, and I go to school at the same school as my older cousin. On top of that, my older sister is a teacher at said school. My sister does not have that look of being out to get me, but that look of not liking what she sees. I'm not a full-Japanese like my sister or cousin. I'm only half-Japanese

So how did this all start? Well, I was born in Japan after my momma met an American Air Force pilot stationed at the Yokota Air Base. You see, my dad is black. My sister was fifteen when I was born, and I left Japan for the Bay Area in California after momma died. I was five. Ever since, my dad and his folks raised me into the girl that you see today.

I inherited my brown eyes, and tanned skin as a mix of both my dad's side of the family, and my mom's. My eyes are similar in shape to my sister's, but the small mole is on the bottom left corner of my left eye. I'm 5'9 and 160lbs. A healthy mix of curves and 'big' with muscle as I enjoy sports. The last part of me is that I rock the ear-length dreadlocks

"Wish me luck, momma,"

I placed a couple lit incense as I kneeled at her grave. I was going off to my first day of school. The blue beads at the ends of my neat, ponytailed dreads chimed in my ears as I was walking to school. I checked the time on my phone. I got a half-hour until school starts, and I followed the other students to the school gate, "Here we go," I said to myself

My first day at Yagami High. Put it this way, if you want to be my friend then I'll happily be your friend. Get on my bad side, and...well, that's not a side you want to get on, just a word of caution. We cool? Alright we cool. I went to see if I can find my name on the big boards outside. I'm in Class 2-D. A blond girl glared at me. I got her name with it, Eri

"Eww," Eri grimaced,

"Fuck you, Blondie,"

I know, not the best way to make friends or a good impression. But if you don't like what you see, guess what? I don't give a flying fuck. I'm happy with the way I am, and I'm comfortable in my skin. That's all that matters. If I came to school in my regular tight jeans and a top, I'd probably be mistaken for a teacher. It probably comes with my height.

I've heard of Class 2-D. Some say that's where all the foreign exchange students go. I'm actually here on an abroad study program. I maybe a tough tomboy, but I really care about going to school and all that jazz. Kenji and Shuji have visited me in California, and it really warms me that they still see me as family. They seemed to enjoy San Francisco

I grew up about a block away from the Japantown Center, so yeah, Japantown Proud. If you need someone to show you around from San Jose to Sacramento, I'm your girl. My neat dreadlocks lightly bounced with my step. I walked up to the homeroom when my sensei happened to be behind me, and opened up the sliding door. The dude is mad creepy

"You must be the new student,"

"Yep," I said bowing to my new teacher, this guy looks like he can be a villain in a made-for-TV movie. His eyes studied me for a moment before he opened the door. Most of the students looked at me like I was from Mars. There's at least one Latina girl here that looks around my size, and a typical American white dude. Making friends shouldn't be hard.

My homeroom teacher is Kato-sensei, "Class, we have a new student joining our class from America, please give a nice and warm welcome to Nagi Osakabe-Jones," I peered my head into the classroom, and walked in to see my name written on the board in kanji. I bowed to the class, the class stood and bowed back, "why don't you go sit next to Lala?"

"Sup?" I greeted her informally,

"¿De dónde eres?" Lala asked,

The lessons from my Spanish class from my last high school picked up on her question, "California, San Francisco," I replied, I have to say she's very pretty. She's got the same amount of tan I do to my skin. No wonder I'm often mistaken for being Latina. Lala made a small grin as I held up my hand to her, "hey c'mon girl, don't leave me hanging here"

I got a hi-five from Lala, "C'mon, let's make this year a good one," I said, earning my first friend of the year, that look in her brown eyes says it will be worth while. Classes went by as the day went by until gym class. With my kanji name written on the front of my t-shirt in sharpie, I saw the red bloomers that look like something I'd wear under my pants

Koriyama-sensei is the gym teacher. He seemed to pick me out first while I was loosening up my legs, "Osakabe, you and Lala will start the one hundred yard dash," he ordered. sounding like an ROTC instructor. With a peep of his whistle, I got off the line with Lala keeping up with me stride for stride. I got a feeling this is a year to make a few memories


End file.
